


Angles

by Nym



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nym/pseuds/Nym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David might not understand Belle's relationship with Rumpelstiltskin, but he respects the power of true love.</p><p>
  <em>Snow takes Belle under her wing as only Snow can, showing her up to Emma's room right away. She chats away about toothbrushes and hand towels, and how to kick the hot water pipe when she wants to take a bath. Snow would do as much for anyone, which is why David loves her, but he can see something else in the gentle, cheerful fussing; a maternal determination that Snow can't even see unnerves people.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oceanofdarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofdarkness/gifts).



> Oceanofdarkness asked for 'a look at Rum & Belle’s Storybrooke relationship from David/Charming’s POV?' I turned it into an episode tag and fix-it ficlet for the most recent episode, "Tiny"!
> 
> Thank you to Luthien for the super-speedy beta!
> 
> **None of my fanfiction may be reposted or otherwise shared elsewhere, including translations and audio recordings, unless you have my written consent. Using my occasional original ideas/characters in your own fanfic, to make your _own_ words or art or whatever, is fine with me.**

He's given up looking for the angle.

You'd think that there had to be one, at least for Rumpelstiltskin, but something has convinced David otherwise. Heartless and ruthless Rumpelstiltskin may be, but he's in love with the town's new librarian, and she's in love with him. Nobody dares speculate about when and why, or what a gorgeous young woman such as Belle sees in a twisted old imp like him. Even Snow's eyes glaze when the conversation turns in that direction, and if gentle-hearted Snow White can't wrap her head around it, David's sure as heck that nobody else can.

Except that Ruby does, in her watchful way. She shows up, face like a thundercloud, and tells Prince Charming about a damsel in distress.

David groans and exchanges glances with Snow, who looks guilty. They made sure that Belle was safe, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. That's a saying in both their worlds.

"She's not crazy," Ruby says, folding her arms and waiting for David to pick up his coat and follow her. "She's forgotten who she is, she's terrified. We can't do this to her."

"No," Snow agrees, sounding tired. "We can't." She and David exchange another glance. He misses the days when they could finish thoughts the other hadn't even started on, but he sees her determination. "She can stay with us until Emma gets back."

"And what then? We hand her over to Gold?" Ruby shifts uneasily from foot to foot. "She's terrified of him."

"We hope like hell that he can undo this," David says, snagging his coat and joining Ruby at the door. "Because Belle's the only person he listens to."

He thinks too hard about that on the way over to the hospital. Their town is covered in debris again - a pissed off giant will do that to a place - but the excitement never reached the hospital. David hopes like anything that gossip doesn't get of hand there, either. What Belle hears might scare the crap out of her, and that's bad enough, but what their visitor from out of town finds out could bring the outside world down on Storybrooke.

None of them who saw Gold by the roadside with Belle's blood on his hands is going to forget it. None of them can doubt that Hook was right - that the mysterious librarian who emerged from nowhere after the curse broke is the keeper of Rumpelstiltskin's heart. There's no telling what the guy might do if anything bad happens to her. He wasn't what you'd call _stable_ to begin with - not in their world and not in this one.

"Belle's your friend," David says, not looking at Ruby. She's in the passenger seat, arms wrapped around a grocery sack full of Belle's clothes and things. Ruby almost had tears in her eyes, letting herself into Belle's little apartment over the library with a key that she said was 'stolen'. Not stolen, David had to tell her; borrowed. But he felt like a trespasser too, and stayed at the door while Ruby gathered up a few essentials. "Does she really love him?"

"Yes," Ruby says, and he knows her well enough to hear the warning in her clipped answer. "I don't get it either, but that's the way it is."

"They're, uh." David frowns, conscious, as sometimes they all are, of being caught between two worlds. In the old one, you didn't ask a lady this stuff. Here, maybe you do. "Close," he finishes, lamely.

Ruby gives a short laugh.

"Don't go there. It's a bad, bad place."

"But-"

"Look, Belle's... she's not... she doesn't overshare, okay? I don't know the gory details. They were together, before. Regina locked her away until Emma broke the curse and Rumpelstiltskin thought she'd died." David nods, squinting ahead for a place to park. That much he'd known from before, and he's still not sure why Rumpelstiltskin ever told him. He talked about love as if it were a poison, not a blessing. "She _glows_ when she does talk about him," Ruby admits, and sounds wistful about it. David nods some more. It's hard to keep in your head that Ruby - Red - _ate_ her last serious romantic proposition, but it makes it easier to understand why she's never looked for another one.

"Has she seen him?"

"Yeah. There was _debris_. She saw him about to throw a curse," Ruby reminds him, exasperated. "Remember how David Nolan would've taken that, will you? Magic?"

"Yeah." Sighing, David unfastens his seatbelt. David Nolan could barely cope with a grocery list. Magic and committed relationships were way beyond him. "I just don't know what we ought to tell her."

"The truth," Ruby says, firmly. "Come on."

That's where it becomes a problem, of course. They don't _know_ the truth, and what little of it David does know sounds insane if he puts it in so many words. 'Yeah, that guy who was about to kill that other guy with the fireball - you love him. No, really.'

They've moved Belle since the night she was admitted. Keeping her as far away from Hook as possible had been the priority, then. Keeping her as far away from out-of-town guy is the priority now and, anyway, there's nothing wrong with Belle that warrants keeping her in the hospital. David feels crappy about that when he sees her, Rumpelstiltskin's true love, curled up in a hospital bed and blotchy from crying. She's too pale.

It doesn't even take a touch to wake Belle up. She scrambles away from his hand before he makes contact with her shoulder and stares up at him, suspicion and fear warring in her eyes.

"I'm David," he says, taking a step back from the bed. Belle nods, her eyes taking in Ruby and the empty ward before pinning him again with her unspoken accusations.

"I remember," she says, managing defiance.

"My wife, Mary Margaret, thought you'd be more comfortable if you came and stayed at our place," David says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ruby's eager nod. She proffers the bag of clothes.

"If you want to," Ruby says, quickly, as Belle's expression darkens with mistrust. "Or my grandmother runs the inn, you can get a room. You shouldn't be alone," she says, desperately. "Not remembering."

Belle sits there, knees pulled up to her chest under the thin hospital blanket, trying to figure out what their angle is.

"Look," David says, trying to smile. "I know what you're going through. I woke up in this hospital not so long ago and I didn't know who I was. I remember what that's like."

"You do?" Wary, Belle stares into his eyes. "You got better?"

"Eventually," he says, spreading his hands. It's not the moment to explain to her how John Doe remembered being David Nolan, who didn't remember being Prince Charming. "But not here. I couldn't wait to get outta here."

Belle thinks before she speaks. He's noticed that about her, even in the short time he's known her.

"Mary Margaret," she says. "She's the one who helped me when I was... the night of the accident."

"That's right. Ruby brought you some of your own things for tonight. We can pick up whatever you need in the morning."

"And if I don't want to go with you?" Belle's hand goes to her left wrist, rubbing at the bruises there.

"Well, do you want to stay here?" David sees her concede that much; staying here is the last thing she wants. "We gotta keep you safe. We promised Mr Gold. Beyond that, it's up to you."

"Mr Gold." Belle seizes the clothes that Ruby holds out to her and hugs the parcel to her chest like a shield. "He isn't here, is he?"

"He's out of town," Ruby supplies, quickly. "I promise, we'll explain everything. Someplace else," she adds, looking around as if she expects to find Greg Mendell lurking there. David knows how much it takes to frighten Ruby, and she's afraid now. If the outside world finds Storybrooke, it'll be the magical among them who suffer. Werewolves don't get a lot of tolerance in any land. And how about dwarfs, fairies and the miscellaneous others who brought that extra touch of the old world over with them? "Wrap up warm, okay?"

A moment's hesitation and then Belle nods.

While she changes behind the curtains, David wonders if he has the authority to take a patient out of the hospital. Hell, did the hospital have the authority to admit her and sedate her in the first place? It was Emma who insisted on bringing Belle to the hospital that night after the accident at the town border; it was that or let Gold take her someplace she didn't want to go. Not a fate that David would wish on anyone, himself.

Belle comes out, slowly, and tries to return Ruby's encouraging smile.

"They wouldn't let me leave when I wanted to before," she says, looking out through the door and down the corridor to the nurses station. "They gave me these injections. Said they made me see things."

"I know." Ruby takes her arm, gently. "I know you don't remember," she says, leading Belle ahead of David and out into the hall, "but you stood by me, not so long ago, when I wasn't sure about myself. You believed in me."

Belle looks down at her feet. Ruby brought her a pair of sneakers, so unlike the neat high heels that David's grown used to seeing Belle wear.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember."

"Let's get out of here," David mutters. He doesn't like to remember what it was like to doubt every thought in his head, or how it felt to see Kathryn crestfallen when he failed to remember something she talked about. By the end, he just pretended that he did remember, just to see her smile.

Snow takes Belle under her wing as only Snow can, showing her up to Emma's room right away. She chats away about toothbrushes and hand towels, and how to kick the hot water pipe when she wants to take a bath. Snow would do as much for anyone, which is why David loves her, but he can see something else in the gentle, cheerful fussing; a maternal determination that Snow can't even see unnerves people. It doesn't unnerve Belle, who remembers her comfort from the site of the accident and, besides, she's half drugged and exhausted too.

"Hot chocolate," Snow announces when she comes back down a couple of minutes later. Her smile is too bright. Too much energy in her good cheer. She's thinking about Emma while she fixes up hot chocolate. David thinks about Rumpelstiltskin's promise - his threat - while he sees Ruby off at the stairs. If anything happens to Belle while they're away...

Damn, but he wishes he could carry a sword again. He can't protect Belle, his family or _anyone_ as well in Storybrooke as he could back home, and it eats at him. Rumpelstiltskin makes sure to remind him at every turn that he's no Prince Charming. Not here. He's a guy with a badge that doesn't belong to him and a gun that feels alien in his hand, and a bunch of words that get swallowed up by a world that's full of words.

"D'you think she'd like cinnamon?" Snow fusses with mugs and spoons, flustered.

"Sure," David murmurs, but he's thinking about how Belle can like Rumpelstiltskin - Mr Gold - more than about whether or not she minds cinnamon on her cocoa.

It's weird - he doesn't have any problem believing that that woman might love the imp. True love does as it will - it's fate. You can't fight it. But Belle _likes_ the guy, enjoys his company. How does that happen? She's not on board with the mayhem and mischief that made Rumpelstiltskin his name back at home. If Belle's father is to be believed, Belle was no more than one of Rumpelstiltskin's damned deals with the desperate; she was his prisoner.

She's never acted like it in David's presence, though. The only time he's seen her cowed and scared and tearful is since she got shot and forgot who she is. With Rumpelstiltskin she's bold, determined, confident. She can put him in his place with a word. More than that, she can make the bastard _smile_ , and David has enough trouble with that part alone. Rumpelstiltskin's smiles were easy, all teeth and nastiness. Mr Gold never smiles at all. Except for Belle.

"I'll take it up," he offers, with the sudden feeling that full-on mothering might do the poor woman more harm than good. Snow's preoccupied about Emma and Henry. So's David, but he finds it easier to deal if he trusts that their daughter knows this crazy world better than any of them here in Storybrooke, and without his magic she's more than capable of dealing with Gold if she has to, as well. With one hand tied behind her back.

Snow nods, uncertainly, and makes herself smile as she hands him two mugs. One with cinnamon and one without. All the bases covered. That's his Snow.

"Belle? Is it okay if I come up with your drink?" That makes Snow smile properly, the secret smile that she wears when she remembers that she loves her Charming, or any of the reasons why.

"Oh... yes," Belle answers, uncertainly. She's not had a lot of people asking her what she wants, since she tumbled over the town line, David guesses. He thinks about the bruises on her forearm, about Ruby saying the hospital had kept her sedated when she started asking questions, and wonders how hard Rumpelstiltskin is going to kill him. All of them.

Belle's sitting on the side of Emma's double bed, her few belongings stacked neatly on the nightstand. She stands up when David enters the loft and then sits back down again, sheepishly. Snow's made a good job of tidying away Emma and Henry's stuff, such as it is, but Belle looks like anyone would, a stranger in a stranger's room.

"So we have cinnamon and not cinnamon," David says, holding out each of the mugs in turn. "We didn't know which you'd like."

"Thank you," Belle says, quietly taking the one without cinnamon. She cups the warmth between her hands and stares down at the swirl of whipped cream, blankly.

Archie should've been the one to take care of her, David thinks, suddenly. He owes Belle his life; he'd do anything for her, and his voice has soothed more fears for more people than David cares to count. They should've brought Archie right away to help her deal with not remembering, with the trauma from the accident, with waking up a blank slate and getting _magic_ thrown right in her face.

Sighing, he sits beside her, careful to leave her plenty of space. He remembers that from when he came out of the coma; he hated to be crowded by the strangers who thought they were friends. And wives.

"How did you remember who you were?" Belle asks, hesitantly. David nods, hiding a grim smile. _Which time?_ isn't the right answer, and _when your boyfriend's evil curse broke and set us free, right before he brought magic into this land_ won't fly either.

"I waited," he admits. "Everyone tried to help me remember, but it was just time that did it. Just time."

"Did people tell you that you were seeing things, too?" Belle sounds bitter, and that's something that fits her like a glove fits a horse. "I know what I saw the other night. That man put his hand over my wound and healed it. He held fire in his hand and he was going to throw it at the other man. I _saw_ ," she snarls, and the hot chocolate sloshes dangerously between her trembling hands.

"Yeah," David says, pushing a hand wearily through his hair. "You did. I'm sorry."

Belle stares at him, sharply, shocked by the turnabout honesty after too many lies. Then she bursts into tears.

David's pretty relieved when Snow comes in and takes over, then, putting the mug of chocolate out of harm's way then sitting, soothing and holding Belle the way she did the other night after the accident. He heads back downstairs, happy to leave it to Snow if some mothering is what's needed after all.

He's finished his hot chocolate at the breakfast counter by the time Snow comes back down, the shoulder of her shirt damp from the other woman's tears.

"What did you _say_ to her?" Snow whispers, loudly, indignant on Belle's behalf.

"I told her the truth," David protests. He's tired. They all need an early night, though he doubts he'll sleep much. Hook is out there. Cora is out there. Regina is... no. That threat, at least, he's familiar with. But Hook might come after Belle again, for no better reason than to spite Rumpelstiltskin. He'll have to go through David, first.

"I'm not sure she was ready for the truth," Snow grouches, trying to be pleasant about it. He shakes his head. That's not the point.

"It's what she needed."

He remembers the way Gold asked him _how_ \- how you make love work against the odds. The only answer David could give him was the honest one; honesty, and hard work. The hard way. Insofar as David can tell, that's how Belle and Rumpelstiltskin have been doing it, except that her capacity for patience and forgiveness, for trust and faith, must be pulling most of the weight. Rumpelstiltskin has magic, and that doesn't let you go easily. Maybe not ever. But Ruby's eyes get misty when she talks about Belle and Gold. _She_ believes it, and that's good enough for David. The reason he hasn't spotted Gold's angle is that there isn't one. He loves Belle, Belle loves him. It's as simple as that. As terrible as that. As heartbreaking as that.

And now Belle doesn't remember any of it.

"Should we give her father a call?" Snow wonders, swirling a spoon in her untouched chocolate.

David makes a face. Snow, Emma - they missed so much while they were gone. They didn't see Moe French at the mines; they didn't see Belle round on the men who'd tried to deceive her. That's one thing he knows about her, absolutely; she doesn't want to be lied to and she intends to be her own woman. She won't _be_ anyone's angle.

"They had a falling out," he says, impressed with his own gift for understatement. "He tried to send her across the town line, wipe her memory rather than let her be with Gold."

"What?" Aghast, Snow stares at him. "You need to fill me in on what's been happening here!"

"Yeah," David admits. He doesn't know where to start. He wishes it'd been him facing ogres and witches and giants, while Snow was here in Storybrooke to take care of Henry. Take care of everybody. It's what she does best. "When she's rested we tell her everything. Let her make up her own mind. Tell her the danger she's in." And tell her about Rumpelstiltskin? David's not so sure about that part. The one place he _knows_ he doesn't want to be is between the two of them.

"Okay." Snow sits down hard on the stool beside his, her shoulders slumped. "How did it all go so wrong so fast?" she asks, miserably, and David doesn't have an answer for her.

"Things will get better," he says. "For Belle. All of us."

When Snow White smiles at him and leans over to kiss him, David knows it's true.

Things will get better.

**Author's Note:**

> **None of my fanfiction may be reposted or otherwise shared elsewhere, including translations and audio recordings, unless you have my written consent. Using my occasional original ideas/characters in your own fanfic, to make your _own_ words or art or whatever, is fine with me.**


End file.
